


Nomenclature

by ncruuk



Category: Las Chicas del Cable | Cable Girls
Genre: F/F, F/M, Missing Scene, No Angst, Oscar pov, POV Second Person, Present Tense, S03E03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23425909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncruuk/pseuds/ncruuk
Summary: Not everyone reacts to Oscar with the need to fight.  A small moment in the Rodriguez de Senilosa home the morning after Oscar and Carlota's interrupted dance.[In these strange, self isolated times, I'm enjoying exploring the Carlota/Sara/Oscar dynamic from Oscar's POV in the occasional vignette.]
Relationships: Carlota/Oscar, Carlota/Sara
Comments: 9
Kudos: 22





	Nomenclature

**Author's Note:**

> I could find no cast credits, and therefore no character names, for two housemaids/staff that interrupt the dance between Oscar and Carlota in episode 3 of s3 (and appear in the background in a few subsequent scenes in the series). I've therefore decided they are Maria and Elizabeth, however if anyone can point me towards canon names I will amend!

“Signora?”

“Si?” You put the newspaper aside and look at Maria, the older of the two maids that Pilar insisted you and Carlota kept when you moved into the apartment. Last night’s awkward interruption to the evening is still firmly at the forefront of your thoughts, adding to your general discomfort at having maids.

“May we speak?” Had it not been for her obvious nervousness, you would have immediately suspected Maria’s intentions were blackmail or worse, especially as Carlota was out for a few minutes. But you still trust your instincts and your ability to read people, women especially, and nod, not noticing it is Oscar’s nod, not  _ hers. _

“Gracias…”

“Sit, please.” Maria’s nervous hovering is making you feel an extra anxiety you don’t wish to have. “You have questions for me?”

“Si, por favor…” Maria’s hands are bunched in her apron, creasing the material impossibly tight, alerting you to the strength and power the woman must have within her from the heavy household work. For a moment you worry you’ve taken the wrong decision, that this is a trap to get you to lower your guard, but you refuse to believe that, deciding that if Maria’s plan was that sophisticated she would have a rehearsed speech to launch straight into, rather than this painful silence.

“About last night?”

“Si...no…” Maria’s confusion was clear in her eyes as she looks at you, trying to edge forwards to what she wants to ask, unknowingly helping to ease your anxiety - if this was an attack there would be anger not anxiousness in her face.

“About my relationship with Carlota?”

“No…Si.” You are about to speak when you see her taking a deep breath, suggesting she’s fortifying herself to continue. In your concentration on Maria, you automatically note Carlota’s return to the apartment with her shouted ‘Hola’ but don’t think anything of it, focused instead on what Maria’s question is going to be. “Why do you pretend to keep two bedrooms?”

“MARIA!”

“Carlota…” You are on your feet before your love has finished her shout, meeting her in the doorway, the question obviously carrying out into the hallway. “...tranquila…” You take hold of your love’s shoulders with a gentle firmness that always helps to calm your fiery protector. “Come sit with me and listen to the questions Maria has.” Soft kisses help you with your persuasion, especially when you are the one electing to show affection with an audience, helping your love to understand that she maybe had not understood the situation.

“Si…” Calmness seems to radiate from Carlota as she sits and smiles at Maria, though her iron grip on your hand lets you know she is acting. “I am sorry I shouted Maria.”

“We are too used to hiding.” With Carlota’s hand in yours, the words come easily to you. “Too used to keeping that part of our lives invisible out of fear of censure.”

“Please do not hide from us.” Maria’s hands stilled as she looked imploringly at Carlota, their years long relationship meaning connections could be established without words. “We are not your father Senorita Carlota.” 

Suddenly you see in Maria’s expression what you hadn’t seen last night - it isn’t fear and repulsion, but fear of disappointing, disappointment that Carlota had unwittingly compounded when she mentioned rewarding them. Now you understand why Dona Pilar insisted Maria and Elizabeth stayed with you in Madrid rather than going with her to Santander - it was a tacit understanding that they didn’t just understand the household work, they understood your love as well.

“Si Maria…” Your love’s grip eases on your hand, and you hear the telltale hitch in her breathing as she gathers herself. “...I have not forgotten that you can be trusted….I…”

“We have forgotten that we can trust others.” You smile as a crazy thought comes to you. “Which bedroom do you suggest we favour?” 

“The blue one.” You don’t know if the laughter you cannot contain comes from your love’s surprise at your question or Maria’s confident answer, then you realise that neither of the rooms you currently shift between are blue.

“That was my parents’ room…” As such, Carlota had never ventured inside it since your joint arrival.

“Si, but Dona Pilar had all the furniture taken to Santander and new delivered. Only the curtains and wall paint is the same.”

“Why that room?” You are curious to know why Maria picks it so promptly, but also know Carlota needs time to understand how careful her mother has been to remove the difficult memories from the apartment.

“It has the morning sun and the scent of orange blossom from the trees outside.” 

You are lost in the images the description paints for you, picturing the sunlight turning your love’s silky blonde hair into spun gilded silver as the faint perfume of orange blossom, already in the air from the orange blossom water your love wears as a scent, weaves its way through your daydream, caressing your love’s bare back and soft flesh. 

“Are we moving then?” Blinking, you focus on the amused face of your love, realising that she must have understood your daydreams from how her eyes sparkled, though there was still the faint frown of confusion still lingering too.

“Si?” You gently squeeze Carlota’s hand in affirmation, relieved when the answering squeeze comes back to you immediately, the ghosts of the past chased far enough away by the dreams of your future. “Bueno…” Pressing a kiss to Carlota’s forehead, you turn back to Maria, not stopping to wonder at how easily you now showed your love affection in her presence. “But that was not the question you wanted to ask me?”

“No…” Some of the ease that Maria had fades now the conversation returned to its main thread, the question made all the harder to ask now that Carlota was there as well.

“This is about last night?” Or maybe with Carlota’s presence it would be easier, her energy and curiosity nudging the conversation along in a way that you can never manage.

“Si...no…” Maria’s hands tense around the apron fabric and she takes what you now see is the confidence building breath, giving you a moment’s notice to prepare for whatever the question is going to be. “The gentleman…”

“Is…” You silence Carlota with another gentle squeeze of your hands and whispering ‘tranquila’, understanding that the question is half-formed and therefore should not have its answer anticipated.

“The gentleman…” repeats Maria, looking you in the eye, gratitude at being able to continue uninterrupted obvious, “...does he have a name?”

“Si…” Out of everything that could have been asked or wondered, you are surprised that this is what she wanted to ask. “...Oscar.”

“Gracias.” And, just like that, Maria is standing, her apron smooth and her shoulders relaxed. “Will you be in for supper Senoritas?”

“Si…” You answer promptly before your love, suddenly keen not to be out amongst the dramas in the lives of others, but at home, in this apartment that as of this moment now felt like a private space that was yours to share with your love.

“And Senor Oscar?”

“Si.” It is your love’s turn to answer decisively, her joy radiating from her now she understands what she had arrived into, what the real problem last night had been. “He still owes me a dance!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
